Chapter Text
In Clint’s opinion, the first time didn’t count.
It was after a crazy battle involving teleporting aliens and a catapult. Clint had helped oversee the cleanup and had finally made his way back to his rooms. He slumped against the wall of the elevator, grateful that he had taken Tony up on his offer to have a second home at the tower. It was just a bit too far to his apartment in Bed-Stuy. As the elevator rose to his floor, he thought about how good it would feel to sleep forever.
He unlocked the door to his room, carefully leaned his bow and quiver in the corner before shedding his clothes, tossing them around the room. Tugging at his pants leg, he hopped on one foot over to the box of leftover pizza. He managed to snag a slice while finally pulling off his pants. Crowing triumphantly, he turned and saw Bruce on the couch leaning up on his elbows, staring at him.
“Clint?” Bruce sat up all the way and scrubbed at his hair. “What are you doing?”
Clint frowned and gestured with the pizza. “It’s my room. What are you doing here?”
“It’s your...oh. Oh man, I’m sorry. I was tired, I just went into the first door that opened for me. I’ll...I’ll just…” He began to look around for his shoes.
“No, it’s okay, it’s cool. We’re all totally beat. Just, uh, sorry about the mess.”
Bruce shrugged, looking around. “Cleaner than mine. That shoulda tipped me off.”
Bruce’s eyes landed on him, and slowly went down his body. Clint abruptly realized he was standing in his boxer shorts, clutching a wilting slice of pizza in front of one of his teammates who was being a bit obvious in checking him out. Somehow, though, this was less embarrassing than the time that Valkyrie warrior with the whip flayed his clothes off in Times Square.
“So you...you sleep. And I’ll sleep. And we’ll both sleep.”
Backing away, Clint caught a hint of Bruce’s smile. As he went to his bedroom, he heard faintly, “Thanks Clint.”